Why, Pa?
by Mercy2908
Summary: A boy is curious and has a question for his father.


**Why, Pa?**

With the back of his sleeve, he wiped the rain-spattered glass. As he saw the stains on his shirt, he scrunched his small nose. Momma would not be happy when she learned he had gotten dirty today too. As soon as the thought entered his mind, he pushed it out as more urgent matters occupied his attention. Pressing his face against the window pane, he looked inside and his big blue eyes eagerly scanned the inside.

An old man sat on a rocking chair, the flames in the fireplace next to him flickering across his wrinkled countenance. His tired, blue eyes seemed lost as he blankly looked ahead of him while he rocked back and forth monotonously.

Outside the hut, the boy kept spying from his hideaway. The expression of his face revealed his innocent curiosity and the sadness that gripped his heart. His little hands gripped the sill of the window as he pushed his wispy body up on tiptoe.

Suddenly, a quick jab in his waist startled him. He reluctantly turned around, and blushing he realized he had been caught. "Pa," he muttered, lowering his eyes to his feet.

His father placed a finger under his chin and made him meet his eyes, which were almost a mirror of the boy's. "Luke, what are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Grandpa needs to rest. Let's not disturb him," the young man said, and passing his arm around his four-year-old son, he steered him away from the hut his parents had moved into when he had married and taken the house where he had grown up.

Father and son walked in silence away from the hut, with Luke throwing looks behind him at the hut they were leaving behind. "You hungry?" the adult asked his son when they walked into the house.

Luke simply shrugged his shoulders, and silently followed his father to the kitchen. His mother was there, and as soon as he stepped in, she noticed the stains at the back of his shirt sleeve. With a slight reprimand, the woman made her son take the garment off, and gave him a fresh one she had just ironed minutes ago.

The boy sat at the table next to his father, and started nibbling the sandwich that had been set at his usual place. His eyes rose to study his father's face. He was gulping a large glass of water, and his forehead glistened with sweat after being working all morning.

"Pa?"

"Yes, Luke?"

The boy swung his head from side to side as he shifted in his seat before he said, "Why is Grandpa so sad?"

James and his wife shared a look before he turned his whole attention back to his son. "Why do you say that, Luke?"

"He doesn't play with me anymore, or take me for walks," the boy replied in a gloomy voice. "He doesn't read me stories or tuck me into bed like he did before."

James ruffled his son's chestnut hair affectionately before he said, "Luke, we need to be a bit patient with Grandpa. He loves you very much, but right now he can't do all those things with you."

"And what we have to do," James's wife continued, "is to give him all our love, honey, and show him we care for him very much."

"And he won't be so sad then?" asked Luke, looking at his father hopeful eyes.

"That's right."

A smile lit up the boy's features, and now that his curiosity was satisfied, he tucked into his sandwich, realizing that indeed he was very hungry.

* * *

Later that day Luke ran out of his house. From the porch he could see his grandfather sitting on the same chair as before, but like every day at this time he moved it outside. As usual, he kept rocking back and forth, his eyes staring into the afternoon horizon in the distance. Luke stood there, watching him for a few minutes as an idea started forming in his mind. Stepping back into his house, he quickly grabbed what he needed, and then rushed out and across the yard towards the hut.

The steady rocking motions and the creaking of the chair did not stop, and the old man did not notice his grandson's presence until the boy spoke up. "Grandpa?"

The old man lowered his eyes, and a slow, almost rusty smile appeared on his lips. "Luke, my boy. What a nice surprise."

"I've brought you something," the four-year-old said, and stretched his little hand to him. The man shifted his blue eyes, and without changing his expression, he stared at the object on his grandson's hand. "You forgot your spectacles in my home, Grandpa Kid. That's why you can't read our stories?"

Kid did not say anything, or move a muscle. The boy carefully placed the spectacles on his nose, and then perched in the familiar lap. "I brought our favorite, Grandpa," he said, opening the book and maneuvering it so that his grandfather could see the printed letters. "Read it to me."

Kid let out a sigh, and cleared his throat. He was not in the mood to read or even company, but who could say no to his lovely grandson? He cleared his throat again, and started reading from the page Luke had selected. The boy listened to every word with rapt attention as if he hadn't heard the story dozens of time before. Yet, he kept sending his grandpa strange looks as he went through the dialogues without using a different voice for every character like he used to.

"Her name was Grace," Kid continued reading in the same monotonous voice his grandson was not used to hearing, "and she appeared on the horizon like a divine angel. Her black hair shone in the bright sun, and her firey eyes stared at the sight she was leaving behind. This was a goodbye, and when or where she would see her friends again she could not tell. A natural rider since almost birth, she gently squeezed her legs around her black mare, and they rode away, faster than the very wind, and…"

"Just like Grandma Lou," the boy remarked exactly the same way he always did when they reached this point in the story.

Kid could not hold the tears back any longer, letting them slip once again from his eyes. When his grandfather did not continue the story, Luke turned his head to look at the older man, and his very young face fell when he noticed the tears.

"Grandpa, please, don't cry… please," the boy said, planting a big kiss on the old man's wrinkled face. "I miss Grandma too, but I know she'll come back to us soon."

Kid wiped his tearful eyes, and blew his nose. "Will she?"

"Ma says that Grandma is in heaven playing with the stars, but she'll get bored without us. She'll be back soon, Grandpa, and she'll bring me a very shiny star just for me because she always brings me presents."

Kid could not help but smile, even as fresh tears blurred his eyes once again.

"Don't be sad, Grandpa. I can also buy you presents. Pa gave me twenty cents yesterday. I can buy you those big, red candies you like from the store. We go now, Grandpa?" the boy said, jumping from the man's lap and stretching his hand to him in offering.

"Thanks," Kid said in a drowned voice, and without hesitation he took his grandson's little hand and rose from his chair. The boy was smiling from ear to ear as for the first time in three months since his wife had died the old man was ready to leave his personal, physical and emotional isolation.

_Inspired by "El Abuelo" by Antonio Alemania_

**The End**

* * *

A**uthor's Note: Thanks to Pilarcita to beta this story for me.**


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